How it worked: A client faces an empty chair, imagines his demon sitting in it, and speaks his thoughts and feelings with no filters
At least now he’ll see that nonsensical, silly, irresponsible Molly had done well for herself, is married to a celebrated rebbi, has raised poised, wonderful, eidel children…
“I’m— the drums aren’t toys,” he says, almost defensively. “They’re— I can’t have anyone touching them. I think I’ll have to keep the study door locked”
Everyone was looking at him now. The way the menahel was saying it, in that special tone of voice he used when he was trying to sound cheerful but really wasn’t, made Yoni suspect he was saying it for the second time. Maybe even the third.
Listen, it’s your first Yom Tov back home as a married lady. It’s normal to be nervous. She casts a quick glance at Menachem, who seems to have dozed off, as doubt gnaws at her.
What was it about this woman that unnerved him? Was it her pride in her job? Her unfamiliarity with the obvious? The hunger to do, to accomplish, outside of her home?